The Glory Days

Bridget had always wanted to travel the globe, visit different countries and take in the different cultures the world had to offer, but as she resided in Italy for the time being, it was far from what she had imagined. Bridget was beginning to feel overwhelmed by it all. There was a desolate air around them with the faint stench of blood and dirt mixed together, and every few minutes or so a medical jeep would come speeding through the vicinity, bringing more wounded to the doctors’ tent for treatment. The sight was upsetting her. She couldn’t believe the war was producing this much suffering. It was far less glorious than all the recruitment shorts at theaters and posters portrayed.

From behind the make-shift stage, she could hear Steve attempt to rally the troops. “Who wants to help me sock old Adolf on the jaw?” He enthusiastically inquired, his audience of a hundred or so men seemingly unamused. “I need a volunteer, guys.”

“I already volunteered. How do you think I got here?” One shouted from the back of the crowd.

“Bring out the girls,” another yelled.

“Hey Captain, sign this for me, will ya?” The man who stood and yelled proceeded to pull his trousers down, flashing his bare bottom for Steve and the rest of the crowd to see, commencing an uproar of laughter.

“C’mon guys, we’re all on the same team here,” Steve said uneasily.

“Bring out the women!” More chanted together, soon gathering some rotten tomatoes and throwing them upon the stage in rebellion.

Steve used his shield to deflect the tomatoes that were thrown at him, walking off the stage defeated. The girls backstage then walked out to soothe the irate men, the men giving a cheery shout and round of applause when they appeared. Bridget stayed behind the curtains, lagging behind in order to cheer up her friend.

She smiled sadly when she saw his worn facial expression, placing a hand upon his shoulder in a comforting manner when he walked up to her. “Don’t get so discouraged. All they’ve been seeing for the past few months has been nothing but other men, they just need to see women for a change.” Steve relayed a half-smile to her attempt to cheer him up, thankful that she cared but still not completely over it. She noticed this, and in order to further lift his spirits, she surprised both Steve and herself by placing a quick peck upon his cheek, both their cheeks flushing with color at the endearing act of affection before Bridget rushed the stage to join the others.

Steve watched her vanished onto the stage, and as soon as she did, he was right back at his lowest. Sighing, he then went off and found a secluded placed to sit down, pulling out a notebook and starting to doodle inside it to pass the time.

Time went by slowly, and the weather changed to match the dreary atmosphere as rain soon fell from the clouds above. The girls had been ushered off the stage as soon as the first drop fell, retreating into the crew’s tent almost immediately. Steve was now nearly finished with his doodle, only having to clean it up around the edges before he put it away.

“Hello, Steve,” a soft voice called.

He looked up and saw the brunette, Peggy Carter, standing there beside him. “Hi,” his voice squeaked out. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, officially, I’m not here at all.” She sighed out softly, taking a seat beside him and getting comfortable on the wood. “That was quite the performance.”

“Oh, yeah…” he murmured. “I had to improvise a little. The audiences I’m used to are a little more… twelve.”

“So I’m to understand that you’re America’s new hope,”

“The bonds take a ten percent bump in every state I visit.”

“Is that Senator Brandt I hear?”

“At least he’s got me doing this. If it were up to Phillips, I’d be stuck in a lab.”

“And these are your two options?—A lab rat or a dancing monkey?” She questioned, motioning towards his doodle. “You were meant for more than this you know.”

Steve looked around, unsure of what to say for a second and soon gave a sigh. “You know, for the longest time I dreamed of coming overseas and being on the frontlines, serving my country. I finally got everything I wanted and… I’m wearing tights.”

Not even a second later another medical jeep came driving into the campsite, skidding to a stop beside the medical tent and unloading more wounded soldiers. “They look like they’ve been through hell.”

“These men more than most,” Peggy began, continuing on when Steve shot her a look of curiosity. “Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano. Two hundred men went up against him and less than fifty returned. Your audience contained what was left of the 107th. The rest were either killed or captured.”

“The 107th?” Steve’s heart seemed to skip a beat as he realized that Bucky, his best friend in the entire world, had been enlisted in that platoon.

Steve sprinted towards the tent where he knew Colonel Phillips was at, yelling for Peggy to hurry when she questioned where he was running to, Bridget witnessing the whole thing as she exited the dancers’ tent. She immediately felt uneasy feeling reside in the pit of her stomach and she found that she couldn’t control her curiosity, following after them in seconds.

Slipping into the tent, she saw the man in charge begin to address Steve. “Well if it isn’t the star-spangled man with a plan? Tell me, what is your plan today?” He asked with a complete lack of interest, sifting through numerous papers on the table he sat at.

“I need the casualty list from Azzano.” Steve answered, ignoring his jab.

“You don’t get to give me orders,”

“I just need one name, sir. Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th.”

The man’s weary eyes glanced over at the brunette besides Steve and pointed his pencil towards her in an accusing manner. “You and I are going to have a very long conversation later that you won’t enjoy.”

“Please, tell me if he’s alive, sir.” Steve pleaded, returning the topic to his friend. “B-A-R-”

“I can spell.”

There was an uncomfortably long silence with both Bridget’s and Steve’s hearts racing in their chest as they waited for an answer. The man rose from his seat and gave an exasperated, husky sigh. “I have signed more of these condolence letters today than I would care to count,” he began. “But… the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry.”

Bridget’s stomach dropped and she couldn’t breathe for a second or two, soon finding herself walking out of the tent and into the open air to try and breathe easier. Bucky wasdead? It just didn’t seem possible. How could this have happened? Bridget knew that this happened to thousands of other men, but the fact that it had happened to Bucky – someone that she knew – was just incomprehensible.

As she was lost in thought, the conversation continued to go on inside the tent without her. “What about the others?” She could hear Steve inquire. “Are you planning a rescue mission?”

“Yeah, it’s called winning the war.”

“So if you know where they are, why not at least—”

“They’re thirty miles behind the lines through some of the most heavily fortified territory in Europe.” He interrupted. “We’d lose more men than we’d save. But I don’t expect you to understand because you’re a chorus girl.”

“I think I understand just fine.”

“Well, then, go understand somewhere else.” Colonel Phillips walked away towards another table and read over more documents. “If I read the posters correctly, you’ve got someplace to be in thirty minutes.”

Steve could see a map on a board against the wall of the tent, a triangle pin with an “H” upon it placed a bit away from the campsite they were currently at. “Yes, sir, I do.” He said, marching out of the tent in seconds, walking right past Bridget, not even noticing her existence.

She chased after Steve and followed him into his tent, already finding him beginning to pack a few items away into a rucksack. “Steve…” she softly called. “Bucky’s gone?”

Her quiet voice caused him to stop in his tracks, and he sighed, slumping his shoulders and resuming his packing. “Possibly being held prisoner at the enemy’s camp,” he murmured.

The tent’s flaps opened up and the same brunette from the other tent came marching in. “What do you plan to do?—Walk to Austria?”

“Austria?” Bridget questioned aloud. “Steve, please tell me you’re not thinking of going to try to save Bucky?”

Steve ignored Bridget’s question and slung his bag over his shoulder. “If that’s what it takes,” he said to Peggy.

“You heard the colonel; your friend is most likely dead.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Even so, he’s devising a strategy. If he detects—”

“By the time he’s done that, it could be too late!”

The blond marched out of the tent without another word to say, Peggy following him out in seconds, yelling for him to stop, and leaving Bridget alone. She couldn’t believe what was transpiring. She knew Steve had always been confident in himself, unafraid of people who would bully and fight others; after all it was one of his best qualities. However, this was war – real, bloody, life-taking war. He could die, be captured just like Bucky, and he’d no longer be part of her life anymore. She didn’t want that. She didn’t even want to think of it.

Her legs rushed her outside and after Steve and the brunette who was running off in another direction. “Steve, wait,” she called.

“Bridge, I’ve got to do this,” he started, turning to face her.

“I know,” she sighed out, “I know.”

“What’s wrong, then?”

“How are you getting there?”

“Peggy’s going to arrange a plane, and then I’ll parachute down.”

“Hold on,” she said, running into the dancers’ tent and walking over towards the helmet stand, taking hers and returning to Steve with haste. Standing upon her tip-toes, she placed the helmet upon his head and clipped it together under his jaw. “Be safe and come back. Got it?”

He smiled and nodded his head. “Got it,”

“Steve, we’re leaving!” Peggy called as she started a different jeep, walking over to them. “We’re taking the jeep to a nearby airfield. Stark’s agreed to fly us.”

“Great,” he nodded, smiling at Bridget before taking off towards the vehicle and getting situated.

Peggy started on her way back as well, but Bridget caught her wrist softly in her grasp. “I’m sorry,” she started. “Peggy, was it?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “Peggy Carter.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry to keep you, but I’m an old friend of Steve’s. I’ve known him since I was a kid, and… I just don’t want to lose him. Please, get him there safely.”

Peggy smiled and nodded her head. “I’ll do my best, Miss…?”

“Spencer; Bridget Spencer.”

Peggy nodded her head once more and excused herself, joining Steve and leaving the campsite towards the airfield, Bridget watching the jeep solemnly until it disappeared from sight.

“He’s coming back, Bridget.” She told herself. “He’s got to come back.”

Notes

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